The Hogwartian Egyptians
by Starlet36
Summary: Dumbledore is finally retiring! But who could ever replace him? Three victim (err lucky)candidates: a former pharaoh, a CEO who doesn't believe in magic, and certified crazy tomb robber are about to find out! Maybe Dumbledore finally HAS gone mad...


So, this is my very first HP/Yu-Gi-Oh! cross-over…so please give it a chance.

No, this will not be a Yaoi story, but still, please read it, there will be other chances forYami/hikari fluffiness for our heroes (I've always wanted to say that…and Seto might fall in love, who knows?)

But Albus Dumbledore might be just a wee bit OOC…(innocent smile)

Disclaimer: If I owned it…(lawyers in background waiting)…um, never mind. Don't own!

So without further ranting…Please enjoy. (I say please a lot, don't I? Ah, well.)

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It was very packed in the makeshift theatre-turned-press conference. Noise echoed the spacious room, reporters blinded their poor victims with their mega watt cameras, and their was a general hustle and bustle as each wizard and witch in the world who could fit into the crammed room was there. 

Although they all came from different backgrounds, reflected in their different thoughts such as the more cosmopolitan 'Why isn't their cream cheese on my bagel…God, now my mocha magic latte is ruined' to more simplistic thoughts as 'How'd the hell they git all them people ta fit?' to the typical 'Where's the bathroom? Agh, OMG sorry, I didn't see!' However no matter what witch or wizard had thought during their cream cheese/bathroom hunting or pure bewilderment…one thought had crossed all of their minds:

WHY THE HELL HAD HEADMASTER ALBUS DUMBLEDORE ARRANGED A PRESS CONFERENCE AT 2 A.M IN THE MORNING?

Were they a tad disgruntled? Meh, give them some coffee and I'm sure they'd stop muttering about the howlers.

"Ladies and gentleman of the hour I am sure you are all wondering why I have called you here today," serenely said Albus Dumbledore with a familiar twinkle in his stunning azure eyes. He majestically entered the stage set for him, adorned in his, ahem, unique astrological nightly robes. A little happy cow jumped over the moon while an odd fiddle danced led even the most pacifists of wizards to question the Headmaster's sanity.

Despite the errr unique attire, he looked like he had been gently resting all along; no thread in his midnight blue robe was out of place and his majestic matching hat (with odd spoons running) draped coordinately on his head. How cute, thought the wizarding world dryly as they all seriously considered increasing their life insurances if _this_ was their almighty protector. The almighty protector in question looked refreshed as he bid his shoved, crowded, sleepless company good day.

His crowd could not say the same. Summoned out of their homes and offices on word of a dire 'Be there or die a thousand deaths' by their now-tucked-in-bed bloody bosses, the disheveled group before him glared as one at the peaceful Dumbledore. Some tightened up their pink bunny pants in preparation for a duel, while others prayed to God that this was something small, something that no one would ever see them in…They were all sadly disappointed.

"I apologize for waking all of you up," Dumbledore said kindly as he clasped his knobbly yet strong hands, his long white beard doing a cheery bob to the bunny-pajama clad reporters. "But there is a very important issue at hand that must be discussed due to current events involving Volde-"

"Yeah, yeah just get on with it," yelled former Sytherin, reporter Jacob Malfoy (yes, related to _those_ Malfoys) as he took a much-needed drag from his cigarette. The faintest mouth twitch upward passed Dumbledore's features as he noted the tough reporter was a member of the pink fuzzy bunny pajama society. 'Damn wife,' thought Jacob as he caught the twitch.

"Well then Mr. Malfoy, I will." Albus said with a smile and continued smiling as he said the next sentence that would leave a whole crowd of hungry irritable reporters speechless; that would forever change the fates of three unaware men (well more like five); and that would be making headlines tomorrow: "I am retiring."

Blink. Blink.

As one, the present wizarding community checked their magical sound recorders and their ears for damage. After reassuring themselves that they were indeed in good hearing health they all collectively gasped, **"WHAT!"**

"I. Am. Retiring." Dumbledore reiterated, his eyes twinkling, oblivious to the pandemonium his statement was causing.

"B-but-" was all many of the reporters could form with their slack-jawed mouths. Those experienced like Mr. Silch recovered from the shocking blow and yelled at Dumbledore with his wand as a microphone, "Professor Dumbledore, the question here is why?"

"Why indeed, Mr. Silch," Dumbledore nodded with approval at the reporter's professionalism while his colleagues were still doing goldfish impersonations. "I guess you could say I am retiring because of personal matters. Or as I so fondly remember from last week, in your article describing me as a "batty senile fool" I guess age has caught up to me after all," Dumbledore said with a grin. Jacob Silch glared at Dumbledore, annoyed at having his words used against him. The headmaster was definitely eccentric, questionably a madman, but he was still the greatest, most powerful wizard who ever lived. Dumbledore was not retiring just so he could go relax in Florida, and frolic DisneyWorld, that was sure.

And the damn batty senile fool knew it with his infuriating twinkle.

And then it dawned on the clever reporter: He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. That would be the only reason Dumbledore would ever leave his precious school filled with his precious mudbloods. He needed to focus all of his energies on fighting him, but what of his school? Mr. Silch had a kid there and however much he hated Dumbledore, he knew the old fool would protect the school with his life. Damn the Almighty Protector.

Before the man could even ask, Dumbledore answered immediately, "Do not worry about the safety of Hogwarts. I will be sure my successor will protect the school even better than I possibly could." His last statement snapped the reporters out of their guffawing goldfish stupor; who could possibly be stronger than Dumbledore? Who would be his successor?

The non-reporter crowd started puffing out their chests, and straightening their pajamas: perhaps there was a purpose to their being here. Perhaps a divine intervention was taking place and their mediocre jobs would be no more…

"So whose your successor?" intensely asked Jacob showing his enthusiasm by practically shoving his mike wand up one of Dumbledore's nostrils. He would be the first to report it, and maybe he could finally buy a mansion to show off to his cousin Lucius.

"I have selected a couple of candidates already…" Dumbledore said leaving the whole crowd jittery with suspense as they bit their nails to the core. "And…they…are…"

This was the moment the whole wizarding community was waiting for…the next Headmaster of Hogwarts, front page tomorrow…Dammit, Dumbledore hurry up, thought most reporters as they too tried to shove their wands up Dumbledore's nose. The others sat there in a happy bubble, filled with happiness: this was why he'd call them here, to announce them as his successor, all the witches and wizards thought, forgetting any malovence they'd held moments before the great majestic hero before them who could do no wrong…

"Are…not…here," Dumbledore concluded as he swept his sky blue eyes across the bubbling happy crowd.

_POP._ That was the sound of about a quarter thousand wizards' bubbles of happiness just popping. With their hope deflated before you could say "huge paycheck", they all glared daggers at the ex-Headmaster.

"Then why'd you call us here Professor at 2 A.M.?" growled Jacob as well as half the wizarding population.

"Oh, well they're foreign muggles so I suppose they're on a different time schedule," cheerily said the former Headmaster. "But the timing is refreshing isn't it?"

Refreshing their a-

If Dumbledore were not the most powerful wizard in the world he would've found himself target to a quarter thousand hexes right about now.

"_Mudbloods!"_ Jacob roared recovering from the second shock that morning, "Your candidates are MUGGLES FOR A 'WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY SCHOOL'! HAVE YOU GONE BLOODY MAD!"

The wizards and witches all concluded that Dumbledore had indeed skiddadled past eccentric and was now deep in just plumb straight-jacket-needy insanity. Dumbledore was going to need a wittle shot from the doctor's if you get my drift…Yes, being able to escape from a psychologists' building with burly thugs carrying tranquilizer guns…was a criteria demand he was going to have to add to the list, the old man thought absently.

"Yes, refreshing, no, Jacob?" Dumbledore asked his disgruntled former student. "They do have magic though," Dumbledore said kindly through his crescent moon spectacles, in his attempt to reassure the angry reporter who looked ready to explode. "They can summon monsters from ancient Egyptian times, I believe it's now a popular card game called Duel Monsters,"

As each wizard and witch conjured a mental picture of four spectacled geeks huddled around a circle talking in the language known only as nerd talk, their white skin so pasty that the sun actually burned them…Jacob mouthed the thought aloud, "We're all screwed."

Basically, all were envisioning Muggle Star Wars extreme fanatics who were obsessed with the force. Obviously they had all yet to hear Yami in the middle of his 'Heart of the Cards' tirade. Obviously, the wizarding world was going to warrant Dumbledore's murder very soon.

"Would you all like to know who they are?" Dumbledore asked the crowd in the same voice one uses when asking toddlers if they would like to have storytime. The crowd was betting half and hour, an hour tops, before Dumbledore hunting season could begin (Wun Wumbledore Wun!)

Perhaps it was the unanimous look of If-I-could-only-jab-you-with-my-cream-cheese-knife-in-the-eye-to-stop-that-damn-twinkle suggested that Dumbledore should start making reservations in Florida ASAP.

"Well, my candidates are all of Egyptian descent…" Dumbledore started out nicely beforeintroducing more quickly, "the first one is former Pharaoh, Yugi Moto, the second is the leading CEO in Japan, Seto Kaiba, and the third has been jailed a record 43 times, former Thief King of Egypt, Bakura Ryou…A worthy bunch if I ever saw one," Dumbledore commented finally.

You know those moments when whatever is being said is so surreal, so alien to your ears that it's just best to let it run through your head and forget about it. You simply think to yourself 'Eh, it was probably nothing,' without realizing it was the physics concept ofNewton's lawsthat was going to 99 percent of your final…Yeah, that's what happened to the reporters. They got the gist of the names but the words 'Pharaoh, CEO, and something about being jailed for skinny dipping or such' became one jumbled blur to be forgotten.

It was probably another one of Dumbledore's rants anyways, nothing special.

Oh, if they only knew…

"Are they coming or not?" asked an impatient Mr. Malfoy, glaring at the headmaster who dared dragged him out of bed at this ungodly for a stupid fool's errand.

Glare, hiss, glare.

You'd think Dumbledore would have the manners to at least look sorry. Nope. Still smiling serenely as if he woke everyone up for a "refreshing" walk for the nature bird's club.

"All in due time m'boy," Dumbledore said, smiling lazily as he pictured himself finding the rare Japanese golden Illfendorf bird…and wining bird club bingo. Yes, Dumbledore was in his happy bubble.

'_M'boy! What was he, two?' _thought the reporter furiously.

"Dumbledore," the twitching reporter growled with as much intimidation he could muster with his adorable (awww!) pink fuzzy pajamas. "We (he gestured to the whole disgruntled/bleary-eyed/sobbing (My bubble! Where'd it gooooo!) crowd) cannot wait for "due time"…If we wanted to wait in "due time", this would've WAITED TILL MORNING!" he roared from his pink pajama attire.

"I know how you feel," Dumbledore said with his maddening blue eyes twinkling. There was a hopeful little bubble as all the sleep-needy witches and wizards thought hopefully, 'You do! Yay! We can go home!' "I once went to a Muggle McDonald's and they took FOREVER with the order, and all I wanted was the cute little toy that came with the Happy Meal…"

There was a loud thump heard throughout the room as all quarter thousand wizards and witches fell to the floor anime style, all looking up at the ceiling going: "WHY! WHY HIM?"

Dumbledore smiled cheerily. He could see his McDonald's story was upsetting his poor delicate crowd (and he hadn't even gotten to finding the finger either!)

"Ba da ba ba pum! I'm loving it!" he murmured cheerily. Perhaps his singing skills weren't the best, thought Dumbledore in response to the quarter thousand odd looks he was receiving. But hey, it was a catchy tune!

"Please…tell…me…this…had…a point…Say…they're…coming…Please…for my blood pressure's sake!" pleaded Mr. Malfoy as he recovered from the floor.

"I assure you, Mr. Malfoy they'll be here very soon," Dumbledore said seriously, and on a lesser dignified man his expression would've been labeled as a smirk. Alas, he was Dumbledore the Eccentric. Not Dumbledore the Smirking Maniacal mwahahaha-lame-cackle Villain. That was Bakura's job.

(Bakura: (experiencing evil dream that involves Yami running out of hair gel) Mwuhaha- Hey, I find that offensive…my evil laugh is SO much cooler, right Ryou?  
Ryou: (Washington impersonation) I cannot tell a lie.  
B: (snaps fingers) Oh, no you didn't!  
R: -.-U ('why? Why him!') Just go fetch the Oreo, Bakura.

B: If you think I'm actually going to fall for that…OMG is that an Oreo! (squeal) Come back!)  
-.-U Back to story…

"Tell us when they're coming dammit, not about your little McDonald's tale!" Jacob roared as he was tempted to flick a bit of his cream cheese into those accursed blue eyes.

But he also valued his life…so he just happily imagined Dumbledore slipping on cream cheese like in a cartoon.

"Mmmmmmm cream cheese," Dumbledore said with a twinkle as Jacob jumped about 20 feet in the air, no exaggeration. _That damn man could read minds!_ "But as I am sure you all wish to go to bed soon…"

YOU _THINK?_

"So by my approximations of owl travel time, the time used up by Mr. Motou's losing the portkey and his tearing up his grandfather's house to find it; Mr. Bakura's mistrust, inner duelings with himself and stealing aforementioned portkey; and above all how long it will take to convince Mr. Kaiba that this is indeed not some 'hocus pocus' but luckily with Mokuba's puppy-eyes I'm assuming an hour, tops…Hmmm, then since it will take a mass collision to get them to actually touch the portkey…I'm saying they should appear right…about…"

POP. WHOOSH. **THUMP.**

"Now." Dumbledore finished. "May I present to you the candidates for my successor, a very worthy bunch." (a/n: I strongly considered ending it here)

The blob of human arms and legs that conveniently missed the chairs and were blobbed in a nice dogpile in front of cameras answered, "Uhhh, hi." in their most dazed voices.

The speechless wizards and witches present immediately felt their ulcers acting up as many sought their plastic knives to end it all in one dull jab to the heart. Time for plan Fire Whiskey, thought Dumbledore.

'Wheeeeeeeeeee, they were a worthy bunch indeed. (hiccup) And there were also two of them...' thought the wizarding community in their happy bubbles as they all drank down the offered whiskey in one gulp.

Now to anyone feeling this effective 'fire whiskey method' was a bit unorthodox in taking advantage of the wizards in their shocked state…Well, how else do you think Dumbledore was elected?

"I say we send them all to the shadow realm while I hold that old one with a beard hostage in demand to be sent back...No, murdering him would be too easy...And no, Bakura I think we should ask where we are before you slash him in two...okay, maybe _one_slash since I have such a bloody headache,"

O.o.Dumbledore was going to need more fire whiskey.

_

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So…am I HP/cross-over material, or should I give up now? Should I change the title to _Dumbledore's Successors_, or keep it?

So…am I HP/cross-over material, or should I give up now? Should I change the title to , or keep it? 

The next chapter (I hope there is one!) would rewind to the events leading up to the successors'…interesting appearance…

There's an interesting story as to how all of them managed to get themselves in such a unique position…(Kaiba: Damn those puppy-eyes)  
This will be the last story I'll start for a long while because a) I know you all must be getting annoyed with just beginnings and b) I feel guilty for neglecting my other stories (hey, if you liked this one, read my others!)

Anyways, PLZ REVIEW! YOUR REVIEW DECIDE WHETHER THERE WILL BE A CHAPTER TWO!

Starlet36


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